I Will Remember You
by tjsmklvr
Summary: Will memories be all Lee has left of Amanda?
1. Prologue

**I Will Remember You**

**_Author: Taya Johnston (tjsmklvr)_**

**_Rating: PG-13_**

**_Disclaimer: "Scarecrow and Mrs. King" is the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon Enterprises. The story belongs to me and is for entertainment purposes only. _**

**_Timeline: AU / Late Third Season. What if Double Agent occurred in third season rather than second? _**

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_**_Feedback: Yes, please, on list or off._**

**_Summary: Will memories be all Lee has left of Amanda? _**

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_**_Author's Notes: Thank you to my beta for forcing me push beyond myself. Without you I would never have finished, nor would it be the same story. Special thanks to Sarah McLachlan and her song "I Will Remember You" for the inspiration and to Robert Bielak who wrote the episode Double Agent. _**

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**_Prologue_**

**_Wednesday, March 26, 1986_**

_I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories_

"Hi there." She dipped her head to try to make eye contact with her weary partner who was sprawled out on his couch. After knocking several times, she had let herself in. He hadn't shown up at the Agency that morning—the bottle of whisky now clutched in his hand was a clear indication why. Mr. Melrose had finally given in and allowed her to go look for him, but not alone. He insisted she take Agent Brawer, who was now standing outside Lee's apartment door. She only hoped Agent Brawer wouldn't hear the coming conversation.

"Amanda, what are you doing here? You're supposed to be at the safe house." His voice was gravelly and irritated. The dark circles under his eyes indicated that he hadn't gotten any sleep last night. Plus, he was still wearing his suit from the day before, sans his tie and jacket, and his once crisp white shirt was now wrinkled and un-tucked haphazardly.

Amanda inhaled and then coughed when the stale stench of the room flooded her nostrils. It smelled like the inside of one of the boy's gym bags at the end of the week. She pulled back the drapes and opened the window. Fresh air would be a good start. "Well, I was on my way to the temporary safe house, but my partner didn't come to say goodbye," she threw over her shoulder as she opened the second window. "So, I thought I'd come see if he was all right." She walked back over to the couch and tried to help him up but was waved away.

"Why wouldn't I be all right? And I liked those closed." He squinted toward the drapes, then rubbed his face to block out the sunlight. "I'm not the one whose life is about to completely change. They'll give me a new codename and ship me off to some other agency. It'll be 'same old, same old' for me."

She swallowed down the lump that formed in her throat and bit her bottom lip. After all this time, he still thought of her as a nuisance—a problem he had to deal with. Last night was a mistake to him.

"Yeah, I guess it will. I thought that after nearly three years I meant more to you than 'resident nuisance.' I thought we were friends, Lee." When he didn't reply, she snatched the empty bottles and glasses, intent on taking them to the kitchen. Lee yanked them out of her hands and threw them back on the coffee table. Amanda jumped as the bottles crashed against one another.

"We were . . . are friends, Amanda." He finally looked at her and, as if frightened by what he saw, hastily turned away. "I'm sorry. I can't do this right now."

And that quickly, his walls were back up. Amanda stiffened her resolve, determined to break through as she had so many times before. Although it seemed he'd built a much stronger defense this time.

"When _will _be a good time? After I'm gone? This is it!" When he made no attempt at speaking, she continued, "Oh, right." She nodded. "When things get too emotional, the infamous Scarecrow has to run away. Heaven forbid he might show he cares about someone besides himself!"

"What's the point? You're leaving." He took a swig out of the whiskey bottle and grimaced. "They _all_ leave . . ."

The confident, self-assured man in front of her dissolved into a scared little boy. If she wasn't so damn frustrated with him, she'd wrap her arms around him and tell him everything would be all right. "So that's it? You push your way into my life, turn it upside down, and then walk away?" Her heart was thumping, and she was certain he could hear it.

"I don't have a choice, Amanda! I tried to keep you out of this godforsaken business! But, oh no, you wouldn't listen. You _never_ listen!" He jabbed his finger toward her, ran his hand roughly through his hair, then continued pacing behind the sofa. "And now look at your future. I've made sure you and your family will never have a normal life again." He staggered over and dropped into the chair, his head cradled in his hands.

"Hold it right there, buster!" Amanda perched on the coffee table and placed her hand on his knee to get his attention. "_You _didn't do anything. _I _chose this life. If anyone is to blame, it's me. I don't have any regrets. I did what I had to do, and I'd do it all over again." She smiled faintly. "Well, maybe one regret . . ." Her fingertips lightly caressed his arm. They had been getting closer over the past few months and no matter how drunk he had been last night, their kiss had meant something. Or, at least, she thought it had. No, she was certain she saw it in his eyes. It didn't matter how he tried to play it off now—he was in pain like she was.

Lee snatched his arm away and sprung up from the chair, nearly knocking her over. "You need to go—"

"You aren't even going to try to be the man you could be?" she asked indignantly. This was her last chance. _Their_ last chance. If she walked out that door, she'd never see him again and he'd never know how she really felt. "You may be afraid to tell me how _you_ feel but I want . . . no, I need you to know how _I_ feel. Lee, you are special to me. Her voice cracked. "I can't leave—"

"No! Just go, Amanda." The coldness in his voice startled her. "I told you once before: I'm poison. Go live your life. We'll both be better off." Grasping her elbow, he guided her to the door and opened it. "Brawer, Mrs. King needs to be at home packing rather than wasting her time here. See that she gets there." He nodded to Agent Brawer, before turning his grim face back to her. "Be happy," he quietly added, almost as an afterthought.

Amanda trailed her hand lightly across his chest but removed it when she found it was 'Scarecrow' staring back at her. His eyes were looking through her—beyond this part of his life. Moving on until the next hurdle popped up that he couldn't escape with his typical avoidance patterns. It was amazing how quickly the Lee of old had returned. Those eyes belonged to the cold, distant loner who had tried to dump her at the Jefferson Memorial three years before. There would be no breaking through those walls today—it took nearly all her strength the first time. If she stayed she'd only be hurt more.

"Goodbye, Scarecrow. Be sure to tell Lee I'll miss him." Holding back the tears that threatened to fall, she bit the inside of her cheek. He would not see her cry.

His eyes furrowed at her comment. A long moment passed before the realization of her statement hit him. He immediately looked down. Lee's head jerked up when his phone rang.

Amanda stood on the other side of his door stunned and shaking in disbelief. This was it. They'd never see each other again. One lone tear cascaded down her cheek as she watched the door close.

"Goodbye, Lee," she whispered.

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**_TBC . . ._**


	2. Chapter 1

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

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**_Monday March 24, 1986_**

**_Two days earlier . . ._**

Stepping off the elevator, Amanda spied her target heading into the bullpen and called out to him. "Lee! I was at home watching _The Arlene Francis Show_ with Mother. There was a man on there, a former agent! He's going—"

"To expose the Agency. I know." He pulled her out of the high traffic of the hallway to just inside the entrance of the bullpen.

"Oh, of course, you already know." She sighed in relief. Of course he did. He never let her down. "So, what's your plan to stop him?

"The plan?"

"Yeah, the plan."

"No plan."

"Oh." She grimaced.

"Listen, Amanda—"

"Lee, did you hear what he said? _Operation Sandstorm._ That was me!"

"I remember." He ran his hand roughly over his face. "We all remember!"

"Ooh," she groaned at the painful reminder of her earlier ineptitude.

"Don't worry about it; that was a long time ago. Look, let's go talk to Billy and see what he has to say." Lee squeezed her hand and smiled.

Billy was sitting behind his desk talking on the phone, boredom etched across his face. Amanda slid into the open chair while Lee paced the small path to the left of Billy's desk. Was it purely the expelling of energy that calmed him when he paced or just the comfort of doing _something?_ Lost in thought, she jumped when she heard the deep voice of her boss.

"Good morning, Amanda."

She sat up straighter. "Morning, Sir."

Billy walked around his desk and leaned on the edge in front of her. "Now, I know this is all very upsetting to you, Amanda."

"Yes, it is. How are we going to stop this book from getting published?"

"We are doing everything we can."

"Yes, Sir." She stared at him waiting but he didn't say anything more. Surely, someone had a plan of action. "Like what, Sir?"

Francine sashayed into the room. "Legal is working on an injunction to stop the publication," she stated matter-of-factly.

"What if that doesn't work? Do we have a Plan B?" Francine stared blankly at her.

Apparently there was no plan B.

Billy cleared his throat. "You and your family will be taken care of, believe me."

"Amanda, worst case scenario, we'll give you a new identity and move you to another part of the country," Francine interjected as she placed a folder on the corner of the desk.

"Not in the middle of the school year!" Francine had no idea how big a deal it really was. It was hard enough to pack the family up for their annual camping trip, how the heck could she be expected to pack her entire family up and move them halfway across the country? And then expect them to understand that they'd have to leave their home and friends. Then there was their father. What would they do about Joe? Would he come with them? Looking up at Lee, her eyes begged him to come up with a better plan.

"There are worse catastrophes," Francine rolled her eyes.

Amanda opened her mouth, but the phone rang. She was only able to give Francine a sharp glare before Billy answered the call. "Melrose here."

"Lee?" she whispered, trying not to disturb the phone conversation.

Lee turned from the window. "Hmm?"

"Maybe, if I went and talked to Mr. Harriman myself—"

"Forget it, Amanda. I tried. Nothing I said made any difference."

"Yes, but—"

Billy slammed the receiver back onto its cradle. "The injunction was denied."

"Great! Just great!" Lee flung his hand against the window shaking the blinds. "When I talked to that S.O.B. this morning, he was so smug. Couldn't wait to stick it to us because he screwed up and was sent to that jungle outpost!"

"Sir? Would you let me talk to Mr. Harriman myself and let him see someone whose life would be completely ruined if he publishes this book? Please, Mr. Melrose?"

"Amanda . . ." Lee's eyes narrowed, his lips thinned and his head shook ever so slightly.

Undeterred, she continued her plea. "Please, Sir?"

Billy glanced to Lee then to Francine and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose it can't hurt, and we're running out of options."

Francine and Lee exchanged a look of disbelief.

"Billy! I'm telling you it's a waste of time. The guy will not budge. He doesn't care that he's endangering a lot of lives."

"Then you must have a better idea?" Billy's eyebrows rose.

"Come on; I'll drive."

"Thank you, Sir." Amanda smiled and allowed Lee to escort her out of the room.

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**_Monday March 24, 1986_**

_**Later that afternoon . . .**_

Lee leaned against the wall arms crossed, glancing at Amanda's rigid form sitting in the chair. She hadn't said a word since they had found Harriman dead in his hotel room. The look in her eyes said that she knew what this meant as well as the repercussions it would have on their working relationship. Not to mention the damage it would do to her life and that of her family's.

"So, they killed him and took the manuscript?" Billy popped a couple antacids into his mouth.

"Yeah. No doubt to start a bidding war between us and the Russians." Lee dug his hands into his pockets. "Damn it, I wish Harriman wasn't dead so I could kill him myself!"

"Lee . . ." Amanda soothed.

"I know. I know."

Lee hadn't wanted this. He had wanted her to stay out of this business. If only she would have listened three years ago when he had warned her something like this could happen and walked away. The words he'd uttered echoed hauntingly in his head as he recalled meeting a trench coat-clad Amanda in front of the Capitol Building: 'Amanda, I think you should stay away from all of this. People in my business have years of training. It could get dangerous. Even worse, you could screw things up.'

She'd certainly screwed things up for him. Before she'd interfered he had been quite content with his life. He had everything he thought he wanted. He'd been happy with the 'flavor of the week,' happy to come home from a long day at work to an empty apartment. He cast his eyes on Amanda once more, but instead of seeing her he was haunted by an old ghost he thought he'd vanquished. The past blended with the present and he was reminded of the argument he'd had with Dorothy when he tried to talk her out of joining the Oz Network. Agency work had its own dangers but the new elite team brought the dangers to new levels. She'd had none of it. If she had only listened. But then, wasn't the damage already done? Being involved with him was a curse. First his parents, then Dorothy. Hell, even his partner Eric had died because of him. He wouldn't allow that to be Amanda's fate.

History was repeating itself: another partner was in danger once again and the only common factor was . . . him. Everyone he had ever cared about had left him, and they always would.

He mentally shook the past from his thoughts. Amanda had heavily entrenched herself into his life, and he now saw full-force the effect he could have on hers. Maybe starting a new life far away from him was what she needed. She would finally be safe from him.

Just as Lee was having his epiphany, Francine burst through the door. "Well, it looks like they've got the Russians' interest. One of my sources at the Russian Embassy says they are chomping at the bit to get their hands on this thing."

Billy stood and pounded his fist onto his desk. "We need to get a line on this guy. Get the word out that we're looking to deal. I want that book!" When they all looked at him expectantly, he added, "Well, move!"

Lee rushed out the door, hoping to avoid a confrontation with Amanda, but he wasn't successful. She caught him outside Billy's office door.

"Lee?"

"No, Amanda." He held up his hand to stave off any argument she was planning. "You're not going with me."

"But I might be able to help. Besides, I'm involved in this too. It's my life that's going to be exposed if we don't get that book," she exclaimed, her hands on her hips.

"Along with a lot of other people's! Amanda, for once just do as I ask!" He straightened his tie and tried again. "Please, you'll have enough to handle." At her questioning look he continued, "You probably should talk to your family about the possibility of being relocated."

There, he'd said it. Perhaps now she'd see he was right all along: she didn't belong in this business. She exhaled deeply and shifted her feet. He knew she was trying to come up with a viable reason to tag along. Her mouth was drawn into a frown. He hated disappointing her but he had no choice. He had to keep her out of this or she'd never be safe.

Billy tapped him on his shoulder.

"She's got a stake in this too, Scarecrow. Take her with you. She may be able to help." Billy's brow shot up in a challenge and Lee knew from experience not to argue with that particular look.

Lee sighed. Once again he'd lost an argument to the housewife turned spy. This wasn't his day. Why couldn't they both let him do this on his own? He needed to get used to that again . . . just in case . . . He gestured toward Amanda and muttered, "Come on."

"Thank you, Sir!" she exclaimed as Lee guided her toward the exit.

The usual bounce in her step had returned, and he had to smile at her typical enthusiasm in spite of himself. She took on each case as if it was her first; the thought that this could be their last was not lost on him. He almost regretted what was to come.

Pushing her away would be the hardest thing he'd ever do.

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_**TBC . . .**_


	3. Chapter 2

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

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**_Monday March 24, 1986_**

**_Evening . . ._**

Lee hiked up his jeans, snapping and zipping in record time. As he threw on his sweater, he cursed the incompetence of the recent graduating class at the Agency. Agent Brawer was supposed to be at the top of his class. If he couldn't keep an eye on a mother of two in the suburbs, there was no hope for him. Ha! He couldn't track a cat in a dog kennel. Reaching down to tie his shoes, he let out a growl. He was getting mad at the wrong person. Where the hell did she think she was going anyway? She knew the Agency was watching the house. He rubbed his temples. This was just like her to make a bad situation worse. Now, _he_ was going to have to go find her.

He swung the front door open and found her, hand poised to knock. "A-man-da! There you are!" He yanked her into his apartment and slammed the door shut. "Where have you been?"

"They called me at home, Lee."

"What do you mean they called you? How? When?" He sounded like her now. Agent Brawer hadn't mentioned any of this when he called. No, the idiot was too busy searching for excuses as to why he'd lost track of her. The agency was supposed to be protecting her. He couldn't even trust them to do that. He couldn't protect her himself, but he couldn't trust anyone else to do it either.

"Lee?"

She was staring at him expectantly. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" He motioned for her to sit as she handed him her coat.

"I said, a man called around eight tonight. He congratulated me on being the star of page ninety-one in_ The Suburban Spy_ and told me they had tapped my phones, so I thought I had better come over here instead."

He felt screams of frustration welling up in the back of his throat. "Do you realize that you lost Brawer? You weren't supposed to shake _him_, Amanda. He was your protection."

She shrugged. "I didn't try to lose him."

Oh, he'd have to give the agent a hard time for losing a civilian driving a station wagon down the streets of D.C. He'd never hear the end of it. That is, if Lee let him live.

"Lee, they gave Augie a list of instructions that say they'll only deal with _me_. I have—"

He snatched the envelope out of her grasp. "No! Absolutely not, Amanda!" This happens every time—somehow she gets pulled into situations she has no business being in. "Wait. Augie? You went and saw Augie? Tonight? Alone? What were thinking? You should have called me."

"My phones were tapped! Besides, the man said to come alone, and I barely had enough time to drive there." The remorse in her eyes flickered into what appeared to be disappointment. "Not to mention, I thought the Agency had my line tapped as well. I had hoped you would have heard the conversation and met me out there."

His voice softened. "We didn't think they'd be contacting you personally."

"Well, I guess you were wrong," she quipped.

He opened his mouth to give a biting retort but realized she was right. They should have been more on top of things. _He _should have been more on top of things. Being distracted had cost him and others around him too much in the past. Lee couldn't change things for Dorothy, but he could for Amanda. Giving himself a mental shake, he shifted focus to the instructions in his hands. "No way! Forget it, Amanda. You're not doing the exchange. It's way too dangerous!" He shook the envelope and then slapped it into his other hand. "I can't believe you even want to try this!" He rubbed the back of his neck to relieve some of the tension.

"I have to! They're watching my house and my family—and if we don't get that manuscript . . ." Her eyes pleaded with his.

Lee sat beside her and patted her hand trying to calm her down. "I know. I know." She scooted closer and laid her head on his shoulder. The floral scent of her shampoo was intoxicating. Lifting an errant wisp of her hair, he rubbed it between his fingers. It was so silky and smooth. Her big brown eyes watched his every move, all the while her teeth biting her lower lip. It would be so easy to kiss her. He wanted to kiss her. He was pretty certain she wanted him to kiss her.

He bolted off the couch escaping to the other side of the room where he stared blindly at the photos lining the mantle. He could not allow himself the luxury of feelings right now. She needed him to find the book, not contemplate kissing her soft lips. Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to gain some semblance of control. She needed an agent, not a playboy. Damn Herriman! Her gentle touch on his shoulder caused him to tense. His jaw clenched and like that, he regained control.

"Look, Amanda. I'm gonna get it back. Okay? Trust me. But I think it would be best if you let _us_ handle this."

Amanda cleared her throat. "Us? What do you mean, 'us'?" She moved around to his right and stared at him expectantly but he refused to make eye contact. This was hard enough as it was without losing focus, which, he was sure to do if he made eye contact with her.

"I thought we were a team, Lee?" She slapped her fist against her thigh.

"Don't you see? This is too dangerous. My God, Amanda, don't you get it? He grabbed her shoulders and shook her trying to make her understand. "If I don't get this back you'll be shipped to the middle of Iowa or some other god-forsaken place. You'll be stripped of your identity, taken away from your friends, everything that makes you who you are; and not just you—Phillip, Jamie, your mother." His jaw tensed and his pulse rapidly beat out of control, but he was helpless to stop them. "I've lived that life, Amanda. It isn't pleasant. Leaving everything that's familiar . . . friends . . . your home . . ."

"Don't you think I know that? It terrifies me to think that everything I've done over the past three years to make the world a safer place for my boys could be the one thing that tears their world apart?" She whipped around and stomped over to the large window. Amanda's still form stood staring out to the street below, her arms wrapped protectively around her.

He could hear the hum of the refrigerator in the next room. Amanda, who always had something to say, was speechless. He remained a short distance behind her wanting, aching to touch her, but stopping himself. Control, he reminded himself. "Do you want something to drink?" His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat.

"No," she whispered and then turned, her eyes now missing that sparkle they once held. "I need to go." She walked toward the door.

"Amanda, I'm sorry . . ." He wasn't sure what he wanted to say.

"No, don't." She shook her head sadly. "You've always been honest about your feelings—at least about me being in this business. I had hoped that after all that we've been through, you'd trust me more." She shrugged on her jacket. Her hand was on the doorknob when she abruptly turned around. Determination was etched on her face. "I _will_ be there tomorrow and I _will_ see this to the end . . . whatever the outcome." Without waiting for his response, she left.

He rushed out the door. "Amanda, wait!" He swallowed the bile that threatened to rise.

She turned with a hopeful face and he stared back.

"Lee?"

"Uh, let me go call someone to escort you home."

Her eyes flickered with anger. "Don't bother!" She stormed off toward the elevator and jabbed at the button.

"Amanda! Will you wait a minute? A-man-da," he growled. Dashing back into his apartment, he grabbed the receiver and punched in the number of the Agency. He needed to get patched into agent Brawer and fast. _Damn her and her stubbornness! _

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After staggering out of Lee's place, Amanda drove around aimlessly for a good thirty minutes. He'd hurt her when he pushed her away as if she was the fuzzy green stuff that she'd thrown out of his fridge. After all they'd been through together he still felt he could do it alone. All the time and effort it took to break through his walls were for not. She slammed her hand on the steering wheel in frustration. "I'll have to prove to him that he does need me. We have to keep that manuscript out of the Russians' hands."

"But I think it would be best if you let _us_ handle this," she mimicked. The nerve of that man! As if she was some fresh recruit! If she had stayed out of half the cases he's told her to over the years, he'd be dead! Where did he get off telling her to stay out of it? This was her life!

"He needs me and we both know it. He's just too stubborn to admit it." She'd show him. A plan formed in her mind. She'd talk to Mr. Melrose before Lee . . . Certain that she could convince their section chief that she could handle the ransom drop, she turned down a neighborhood street toward home.

His harsh words invaded her thoughts: _You'll be stripped of your identity; taken away from your friends, everything that makes you who you are, and not just you—Phillip, Jamie, your mother. _Amanda cringed. "What am I going to tell mother?" She studied the woman staring back at her from the rearview mirror. "Mother, have you ever thought about moving?" She shook her head and returned her attention to the road in front of her. Too blunt. "You know Mother, I've been thinking, maybe we could all use a change of scenery. I've heard Montana's nice." She winced at the idiocy of it all. Her mother would see right through her.

Any further thoughts were cut short when she nearly hit Phillip's bike pulling into the driveway. Moments later, she was tiptoeing into the back door in hopes of finding everyone asleep.

"Amanda, is that you?"

No such luck. "Yes, Mother." She tossed her keys and purse on the counter, then grabbed the tea kettle and filled it. Maybe tea would ease the pounding in her head. She rubbed her temple and turned on the stove.

"What's wrong, dear?" She jumped when her mother touched her shoulder.

"Oh, I barely missed hitting Phillip's bike on my way in. He promised me he wouldn't leave it in the middle of the driveway anymore after what happened to Jamie's last time." She stared off into space. "He _promised_ me!"

"Well, he had a lot on his mind. It seems Linda Montez's father is being transferred to North Dakota. You'd think it was the end of the world as we know it." She harrumphed.

"Really?" Amanda saw her opening and dove in. "We did a documentary on North Dakota a few months back, it seemed like a lovely place to live." She pulled two mugs from the cupboard and began pouring. "Have you ever thought of moving, Mother?" Amanda avoided her mother's gaze as she handed her a steaming mug.

"Thank you, darling. Yes, why the other day I saw a beautiful colonial on Oak Terrace. It had the most adorable—"

"No, Mother. I meant a different state. Like, I don't know . . . Montana? Or even North Dakota?" Amanda shrugged as if it was a random conversation.

"Oh, Amanda, this is just a junior high crush. We can't pick up and move because Phillip's puppy dog crush is moving away. He'll get over it, dear. You can't protect him from everything. He needs to experience the good and the bad in life. Besides, what would we do in North Dakota? It's freezing there!" She shivered and scooted up the stairs. "Goodnight, darling. Thanks for the tea."

Amanda's shoulders slumped forward. She had tried. She'd have to be sure things didn't go that far. There wasn't a place in the world that could hide her from her mother's questions if Harriman's book was published. She flipped off the lights in the kitchen and headed up to bed. She needed a good night's sleep if she was going to be in first thing in the morning to talk to Mr. Melrose before Lee.

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_TBC . . ._


	4. Chapter 3

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

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**_Tuesday, March 25, 1986_**

"A roaring fire, handcuffs, just the two of us . . . I bet your old boyfriend, Don was never this romantic."

Amanda rolled her eyes and yanked hard on his belt.

"Hey! Watch it!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Lee, I can do this." She fiddled at his belt again, being careful not to poke him further. Although, right about now one good strategically placed jab would make her happier.

"Is that what you told Billy at the crack of dawn this morning? That you could 'handle' this assignment?"

She kept her eyes on the task of removing his belt, but sensed his eyes burning into her. Why did he have to smell so good? _Focus, Amanda! _

She slid her hand around his trim waist, one finger slipped under the waistband of his slacks and grazed the smooth skin, and he inadvertently shivered. Her eyes widened and she nervously moistened her lips.

"Amanda?" His voice was softer.

She frantically pulled the belt through the final loop as her eyes met his warm stare. "I told you I would see this through. I may not be the calm and collected agent that Francine is, but . . ." She bit her bottom lip. "I _can_ do this, Lee."

"I know, but–"

Sweat dripped down her back, the heat of the fire reminded her of the necessary urgency, and she jammed the metal tongue of the belt into the handcuff. Why did the bad guys always have to make bad situations even worse? Wasn't it enough that they are handcuffed to a heavy piece of machinery in an empty warehouse? No, there had to be an out of control fire added to the mix. The boom of another barrel of fuel exploding a few feet away made her jump.

"And I meant it, Lee." With one final twist of the metal she was free from the confines of the cuff. "Got it!"

"Good! Now get these things off me, huh? That fire's getting a little too close!" Sweat dripped off his brow.

"Right!" She worked quickly to free him while trying to block out the pending doom the fire presented. "Almost . . . there." The click of the last lock snapping open was music to her ears.

"Okay, now I want you to get out of here and take _Sleeping Beauty_ with you." He indicated the man beginning to stir on the floor. "Don't let him of your sight. After the number his partner did on him, I don't think we'll have to work too hard to get him to spill his guts."

Amanda nodded and stepped over to help the man up. The whoosh of the fire extinguisher drowned out Lee's footsteps as he hurried after the manuscript. Acrid smoke filled her lungs and the heavy air made it impossible to breathe. The heat spurred her into gear, but the other guy was still too woozy to give much help. Amanda knew the importance of getting him to safety and in custody, especially if Lee was unsuccessful in finding his partner with the manuscript. The trip nearly took longer than she, or her lungs, could bear.

Moments later she was encircled by a swarm of agents, who took custody of her ward. This left her free to go back into the building to find Lee, but was stopped by a fireman.

The wait was agonizing. Finally, she saw Lee's soot-laden form escape the building. Their eyes met, and he shrugged indicating his own disappointment. She nodded in understanding, then gently smiled to reassure him. Rushing toward him, his eyes reflected a look of such despondence that it chilled her. She recognized it: he believed he had failed her. The feeling was almost palpable. When she finally reached him, she threw her arms around him but he stiffened and pulled away. Amanda felt like she'd just arrived at school in her underwear and, since the ground refused to open up and swallow her, she decided to hand Lee his belt. "Here you go. It's a bit mangled but you could probably get it fixed."

"Are you okay?" Lee asked. When she nodded, he continued, "Look Amanda, I'm going to need to stick around a while. Why don't you have Billy take you back to the Agency?" He turned around and sauntered over to a group of fireman, leaving Amanda holding his mangled belt.

She inwardly groaned. One more layer of brick had been placed in his carefully crafted wall of defense.

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_Remember the good times that we had?  
I let them slip away from us when things got bad  
How clearly I first saw you smilin' in the sun  
Wanna feel your warmth upon me, I wanna be the one  
_

_**Later that evening . . .**_

Amanda looked extremely distraught. Lee was only getting snippets of the conversation as she told her mother the truth about her secret life. The strain in Amanda's voice indicated that this was tearing her up inside.

She had always hated lying to her family, especially to her mother, and now coming face-to-face with the effects of that deceit was killing her. He thought her knees were going to buckle when Phillip and Jamie ran upstairs in tears a few minutes earlier. A flash of the Colonel coming into his room to inform him they were being transferred yet again played before him. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially two innocent boys.

His heart ached as Amanda fell all over herself trying to make Dotty understand. Why hadn't Billy sent someone with her to help explain things? Of course, then he might be inside sitting next to Amanda on the couch instead of out here on her back porch watching it all unfold. He couldn't handle that right now. She needed a clean break from him—and he from her.

He squirmed in his hunkered down position outside the French doors of the den where he could pick up most of the conversation while watching through the slight opening in the curtain. They had started in the kitchen, but when Amanda had gotten into the heart of the matter they made their way to the family room. Dotty paced a bit before finally seeking refuge in the wing-back chair next to the couch. Her body language screamed anger and hurt. Amanda was obviously picking up on this as well. She sat with her head in her hand and he found a terrible tenseness in his body. She didn't deserve this. The only thing she had done wrong was trust him.

Amanda's anguished cry pulled him from his thoughts, and he strained to hear.

"Of course, I thought about them! Mother, I know that you're upset, but please understand that I truly hated lying to you. I wanted to tell you so many times, but I just couldn't." Amanda tried to move closer to her mother, but Dotty stood and turned away. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to go to Amanda and comfort her. Thankfully, he remembered he was the reason she was in this mess and stretched his legs before squatting back down again to listen.

Dotty whirled around. "National security! Yes, you mentioned that. I'm your mother, young lady! How could you have this secret life and not tell me? Traipsing around God only knows where playing spy. You're a mother of two small boys!"

"Mother, please sit down." Amanda reached for Dotty and she didn't pull away.

_That's right, calm her down and then explain it to her, Amanda. _If she could calm him down, she could certainly handle Dotty West.

"I know this is a lot to take all at once. I really did have the best intentions in joining the Agency. I've tried to make it a safer place for the boys and you." The past few days had caught up with her. Her voice was erratic and there were circles under her eyes. God only knew when the last time she had gotten a good night's sleep. She continued. "That day at the train station when that man asked for my help, I just couldn't say no. His eyes . . ." Lee fought down a wave of apprehension at her words and strained to hear more but she never finished her thought. Disappointment ran through him.

Dotty sucked in a breath and cupped her hand to her mouth as if she'd just had an epiphany. "That day you came home and rushed us off to Uncle Herman's! You said there was a bomb . . ."

Amanda nodded. "I was telling the truth. I needed to know you and the boys would be safe." She wiped the tears from her face.

"Amanda, how dangerous is this job? Have you ever been hurt? What's going to happen to us in this 'relocation program' of yours?" Dotty was now sitting next to her daughter clasping her hand.

Amanda's gaze briefly fell on the kitchen window. "I'm protected by the best. No, not seriously hurt. And we'll be sent to a new city and given new identities. It'll be like starting over, Mother. You've always talked about doing that."

"Not like this! There's always a tall, dark, handsome stranger in my romance novels."

"I know it's not ideal but it's what has to be done." Licking her lips, she pulled on her pendant and slid it back and forth on its chain. "Maybe I never should have taken that package in the first place; I don't know anymore! We tried so hard to get a hold of that book. We really did, but . . ." She shook her head.

Lee leaned back against the doorframe and squeezed his eyes shut. _But I failed you, _the voice inside him screamed and he was suddenly anxious to escape the scene. She didn't need him hanging around. He only brought her pain. The clap of thunder and rolling clouds added to his dreary mood.

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_**TBC . . .**_


	5. Chapter 4

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

_SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK SMK _

_I'm so tired but I can't sleep  
Standin' on the edge of something much too deep  
It's funny how we feel so much but we cannot say a word  
We are screaming inside, but we can't be heard  
_

**_Tuesday March 25, 1986_**

**_After leaving Amanda's . . ._**

Lee swallowed down the burning liquid and sighed in relief. It was only his first, but it was a start. He chose this bar because it was near his apartment and usually empty at this time of night. Peace and quiet—that's what he needed.

"Hi! How ya doing?"

Lee glanced over to find a stocky bald man with round glasses standing at the edge of the bar grinning like a lunatic.

Lee nodded ambiguously at the man and returned his focus to his drink.

"The name's Milton Festerman. You look like you could use another." Lee ignored the man's extended hand, but Milton was undeterred. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thanks, I'm good." He just wanted to be left alone. Was that too much to ask? Hopefully this guy would get the hint.

"I'm a pretty good listener." Mr. _Pesterman _motioned for the bartender. "A Miller Lite and whatever this fine young man is having."

"Really, that's not necessary."

"I insist." He grabbed his beer and moved over to sit down on the stool next to Lee while Lee eyed the bartender refilling his glass. "You have family?" The little man didn't even wait for Lee to respond before diving into his memorized sales pitch. "Life throws us curves when we least expect it. You wouldn't want to leave the little woman to raise the kids while trying to make ends meet. It's hard enough—"

"Listen, I don't –"

"I hear it all the time. No one ever thinks it'll happen to them." He took a sip of his beer and started in again. "For as little as a dollar a day, you can have the peace of mind. . . ."

Lee zoned out and took another swig of his Scotch. By the time he had finished his second glass, the pushy salesman began winding up his speech.

"So you see, it's little cost for so much coverage. What do you think? Are you ready to take care of your loved ones?"

Lee had finally had enough and exploded. "Look, Pal! I'm a loner! Got it? I've got no one! Nada! Zilch! So, get out of my face with your . . . 'family planning' crap! The bartender was out from behind the bar in a matter of seconds, but Lee assured him he was fine and wouldn't be any more trouble. The pushy salesman was hurrying out the door before Lee could even blink.

Lee settled on the uncomfortable stool and tried to act interested in the sports highlights on the television in front of him. Like a child afraid of being punished, he sat quietly trying to go unnoticed.

A couple Scotches later, he worried less about being thrown out and more about numbing his thoughts. "Come on! What's a guy gotta do around here to get a drink?" Lee tapped the empty glass on the sticky bar then slid it into the others that had gone before.

"Are you sure you need another one, buddy?" The dark haired man stood before him with a bottle of Scotch hovering over a fresh clean glass.

Lee moistened his dry lips and grasped the edge of the bar. "I'm _not_ your 'buddy'. And yeah, I'm sure of one thing and that's that I need another drink. Several more, actually. So be a pal and keep 'em coming. In fact . . ." Lee grabbed a hold of the bottle as the nervous bartender clutched it in his hand. Under the influence or not, Lee could still stare down anyone. Reluctantly the younger man let go allowing Lee to slam it down in front of him. He threw a wad of cash on the bar and topped off his glass.

Lee wasn't about to let some wet-behind-the-ears punk stop him from having a few harmless drinks after a long, stressful day. He was entitled to relax and throw back a few. After all, he was in complete control. The little scuttle earlier wasn't his fault. The twerp wouldn't stop hounding him. How many times did he have to tell him he didn't want any damn insurance?

Swallowing down a small burp, he gulped the amber liquid then glanced around the nearly empty room. Convinced he didn't have an audience he slumped back down on the padded stool and nursed his new best friend.

The bartender removed the empty glasses sitting in front of Lee, leaving him to wallow in private.

"Excuse me."

It was no small feat to lift his heavy eyes to see what the bartender wanted now. Lee raised a brow. "Should I bring another glass?" Lee looked down at his half-full glass and then up at the bartender in confusion when the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end and a hand touched his forearm.

He didn't need to turn around to know whose hand it was. Young though he was, Lee had to hand it to the guy he was perceptive and took his leave. Throwing back the remaining Scotch in his glass, Lee started to pour another but the 'suburban albatross' snatched the bottle from him.

"Give it back, Amanda!" He reached for it, but she pulled it out of his reach. He saw what the stress of the past few days had done to her. Her usual sun-kissed skin was washed out and a wrinkle had taken up residence on her forehead.

"We need to talk, Lee."

"This is a bar. You _drink_ in a bar!" He reached for the bottle again, but she was still too quick for him. _Damn alcohol._

Amanda slid the empty glass over and painstakingly filled the glass. When she was done she made sure to keep the bottle out of sight before picking up the glass and throwing back its contents.

She burst into a coughing fit, and Lee stumbled to pat her on the back but was waved off. "I'm okay," she sputtered.

"What are you doing?" This wasn't his Amanda. She rarely drank and never the hard stuff. Not unless she was spending Christmas in a cabin with Russian spies. No, she was up to something.

"I'm drinking. You said you wanted to drink. _I_ want to talk, but I'll drink until you're ready to talk." Determinedly, she poured another drink and brought it to her lips and he watched her hesitate. No such luck: he was calling her bluff.

After a moment, she threw back the Scotch only this time she coughed harder, nearly falling off her stool.

"Okay! Okay!" He pushed the glass away. "You wanna talk? Fine! Let's talk!" He ran his hand roughly through his hair and indicated a corner booth. If she wanted to talk, he was going to give her an earful. As she made her way over to the booth, he covertly snatched the bottle and glass off the bar before following.

After sliding his bounty onto the veneer tabletop, Lee threw himself into the booth—not even waiting for her to slide in on the other side. "What are you doing here, Amanda? How did you even find me?"

"I was on my way to your apartment, and I saw your car parked out front."

"So you decided to stop in for a chat?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay. You were so upset earlier—"

"I wasn't upset!" he shouted then took a deep breath to calm himself. "I was frustrated that we lost the manuscript. It's just another case, Amanda. That's all!" She was shaking her head before he even finished his sentence. "What? Why are you doing that?"

"You don't believe that. If you did, you wouldn't be sitting in this dark empty bar drowning your sorrows. You heard Billy after our debriefing. Dr. Smith gave us twenty-four hours to find the manuscript." She tapped her watch. "And we still have seventeen hours. Otherwise, that's it. No more Scarecrow and Mrs. King." She stared at him expectantly.

"Is that such a bad thing?" Her mouth opened but closed abruptly at his pointed glare. "You can start over, Amanda. No more putting your life on the line. No more bullets. No more lies. Your family knows the truth. I know they're upset now, but they'll get over it and then you can start fresh. You don't need the Agency or me constantly pulling you away from them. No." He shook his head. "This is a good thing for everyone concerned. You should go home." He swallowed down the lump that lodged itself in his throat while the energy drained from the woman before him.

When Lee reached for the half-empty bottle of Scotch, she nudged it farther away, her eyes locked on him. If she thought she was going to win this . . . game, she was sadly mistaken. He scooted closer to her, deftly trying to ignore the sweet aroma of her perfume. "Hand me the bottle, Amanda." She shook her head defiantly.

He moved closer still. Even in a smoke-filled room, he could smell her—like rain on a hot summer's day. The closer he got to her, the more panicked he became. "Fine! I'll get the bartender to bring over . . ." The bartender was speaking quite intimately with a flirtatious girl at the other end of the bar. Amanda smiled triumphantly.

The sly approach hadn't worked perhaps he should try a more direct route. He stretched behind her with his left arm and grabbed her wrist that held the bottle. It wasn't until he felt Amanda's warm breath on his face that he noticed his close proximity to her. He loosened his grip on her arm only to slide his hand around her waist. Her sweet neck was just inches away. Her lips and delicate mouth . . . were moving. He pushed the thoughts away and tried to focus on what she was saying.

"Lee."

One word, but spoken with such need. When his focus moved from her lips to her eyes he saw the need there as well. Her voice caressed over him. "Lee, how can you tell me to go? We both know you want me to stay." She nibbled her lip. "_I_ want to stay." Either the blood pounding in his ears or the large consumption of alcohol had drowned out the voice that normally screamed 'stop' whenever he imagined kissing Amanda. This time he _was_ going to kiss her. Damn the consequences.

Pressing his lips to hers, he finally gave into the tension that had been building over the past few days . . . Hell, years. He cradled her head in his hands and proceeded to kiss her with all the passion he'd kept under a tight rein for so long. All control gone. All thoughts gone. He knew one thing: he needed to kiss this woman.

Her mouth was soft, pliant beneath his. "Lee," she softly moaned his name as he kissed his way down her neck and back up to her mouth. He had never heard her sound like that. She sounded—. A crash sounded from somewhere in the bar. Lee jumped back, leaving a slightly bewildered Amanda in his wake. The bartender sheepishly bent down to retrieve some shattered object off the floor.

Amanda was still half-clinging to him, and Lee not so carefully extracted himself from her grip. Like a blast of cold air, the crash had re-awoken his brain and reminded him of what he needed to do: push her _out_ of his life, not pull her _in_. Light smoldered in her gold-flecked eyes. She was so beautiful. Smart. Resourceful. Loving.

_Let her go, Lee. Don't let her end up like Dorothy, _the voice taunted. It was like falling through a trap door. Walking on clouds one minute and falling into nothingness the next.

The silence loomed like a heavy mist. What had he been thinking kissing her like that? He was supposed to be convincing her he didn't want anything to do with her. If that's what it took to keep her safe he'd have to do it.

Amanda sat silent, staring at him. Waiting. His mind spinning, he grabbed the bottle of Scotch and poured himself a double.

"Lee?" She whispered as if frightened of his response.

He threw back the drink before answering. "Amanda, I'm sorry. It didn't mean anything."

"It didn't mean anything?" Eyes wide and brows furrowed, she stared at him in disbelief.

"No. I had too much to drink and got carried away. You know my reputation. 'Scarecrow chases anything in a skirt'."

"Right. So, you didn't feel _anything_ when you kissed me?" she asked. Gone was the bewildered Amanda; in her place was a skeptical woman who was not going to be so easy to convince.

"Nope. Nothing." His years of Agency training had never covered how to combat the one person that knows you better than you know yourself. He'd rather face an entire army of Russian interrogators, than have this one conversation with Amanda King.

The piercing glare she gave as he struggled for a believable tale was nearly his undoing. She didn't believe him. He needed to make her believe him to ensure her future. Fists tightened at his sides, he pressed on. "I thought that since this will be your last night in town, perhaps I could add you to my little black book but it just wasn't there for me."

Sadness crossed her face before her jaw tensed. "It was less painful that time you slapped me, and we both know that wasn't any more real than _this_ was. Be sure to take a cab home, Lee." Grabbing her purse, she slid out of the booth and strode toward the door.

Lee could only watch her leave. His mind told him to let her go yet his heart screamed to make her stay. A few minutes later found him still sitting there, legs numb, his head in his hands, wondering what he'd done to deserve this curse.

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**_TBC . . ._**


	6. Chapter 5

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

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**_Wednesday, March 26, 1986_**

**_Amanda's visit . . . from Lee's POV_**

"Goodbye, Scarecrow. Be sure to tell Lee I'll miss him."

His eyes furrowed in confusion. _Scarecrow?_ He winced inwardly and stared at the floor. Amanda now saw him as the man everyone believed him to be. That knowledge twisted and turned inside him. It never mattered what others thought of him . . . He couldn't bear to see his reflection in her eyes. Before he could react, the phone startled him and caused him to release his hold on the door. He helplessly watched the door swing shut on the only thing in his life he wanted and the one thing he couldn't have.

"Goodbye, Amanda," he whispered. The lone tear streaming down her cheek did not go unnoticed. He hated to see her cry but knew that no matter what happened he needed to stay out of her life. It didn't matter if they found the book in time. This had to be the end of their relationship. He owed her _that_ much.

When he had heard Amanda talking to Agent Brawer in the hallway, he had scrambled to stage things to make it appear that he'd been up all night drinking. At first, he told himself it was because he didn't want to give her false hope. He now realized that he didn't want to give _himself_ false hope. They needed a clean break . . . no matter how hard. And though Lee longed to drown the pain in his chest with the contents of one of the bottles he'd strategically placed on the coffee table, the incessant ring of the phone was his first priority.

"Hello?"

"Scarecrow, do you have any idea how much you owe me for interrupting my evening to interrogate Sleece again? Do you know _who_ I was with last night?"

"Yes, I do, and from what I hear his 'backgammon game' doesn't last long. So, _you_ should be thanking _me_."

"When you have a bank account as large as his, time doesn't matter."

"I'll take your word for it, Francine. What did you find out?"

"Do you remember that technique I used in Singapore in '81? I told you it would have worked if you hadn't have interrupted. It worked like a charm this time. I was able to extract some very interesting information from our troublesome extortionist."

"Are you done tooting your own horn? I'm waiting for some of my 'family' to call me back. What do you have?"

"I'll tell you on the way to the airport. We're booked on a four o'clock flight to Rio. I'll swing by and pick you up in an hour."

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_**Saturday, March 29, 1986**_

**Three days later . . **. 

"Amanda, have you seen the box marked 'books' with your grandmother's silver in it? Amanda's mother yelled from the dining room. When they had been told they could return home the family had been so excited but Amanda felt an underlying sadness. Laying in bed the night before she realized why. As long as they moved away it was a clean break. No chance of bumping into Lee at a local restaurant, no backyard filled hidden shadows or memories of stolen moments to remind her.

"Why would you label a dining room box 'books'?" Amanda was standing in the cluttered kitchen absently emptying the large box marked 'kitchen.' She really needed to talk to her mother about her habit of buying so many cans of chicken broth. How many cans could one family use in a lifetime?

"Don't you remember that story on the news not too long ago about movers stealing valuables? I would feel awful if we lost the silver."

"Mother! The agency packed our things. Do you honestly think they would steal something from us?" Amanda shook her head in disbelief.

"Well, you never know. I'm certain they're not all as nice as that Mr. Melrose who came by the hideout to tell us it was all over."

"Safe house, Mother. It was a safe house." Her mother's eyes bored into the back of her head, but she continued tossing items into the cupboard to the left of the sink.

"Well, if you ask me, you spies spend too much time worrying about codenames and not enough time catching the bad guys."

Amanda nodded knowing there was no changing her mother's mind on the subject.

"Amanda dear, you just put the oven mitts in with the canned goods. What has you so preoccupied? You hardly spoke at dinner, and now this. I would think you'd be feeling on top of the world since this mess is all behind us." Amanda moved around her mother to return the oven mitts to their rightful home, but her mother's grasp on her forearm stopped her. "It _is_ all behind us, isn't it?" Worry creased her mother's face. Things were finally becoming comfortable again with the boys and Mother, but she still felt guilty for all the lies and trouble she had put them through. During last night's family meeting they had assured her they understood, but that didn't mean they weren't hurt by the deceptions of her double life.

"Yes, it's all behind us now." Amanda patted her mother's hand and grabbed a small box off the island. The sooner she returned her home to normal the sooner she could get back to work. An inner torment gnawed at her when she thought of what it would be like to return to the Agency knowing Lee didn't want her in his life. Would he refuse to work with her and ask Mr. Melrose to assign her to another agent? Could she still work with him considering the way she felt? Could she work with someone else? The only alternative would be to resign and that would be running away. She'd face a safe . . . boring future.

Amanda sighed. "I know I've put you and the boys through a lot over the past week and I'm very sorry. Things will be different around here. No more lying. No more late night vanishings." _No more Lee. _Amanda added silently. For the third time, she caught herself peering out the kitchen window, knowing he wouldn't be there but still hoping he'd suddenly pop up. He hadn't bothered to come by the temporary safe house to tell her they had found the manuscript, so what made her think he'd show up now—almost two days later?

Maybe she should drive by his place. Perhaps he was too embarrassed to come by on his own. He was waiting for her to break the ice . . . No. She had given him enough opportunities to be honest about his feelings for her and he'd made his feelings perfectly clear: he wanted her out of the Agency and out of his life. _Mother always said, if you love someone let them go, and if they come back to you . . ._ Well, her mother never met Lee Stetson, stubborn to the core.Her stomach wrenched as his final words echoed in her head: _"Go live your life. We'll both be better off." _They cut her like a knife and he made sure to twist it deeper.

"All right darling, that does it for me tonight. I'm going to go soak in a nice hot bath." She rubbed her neck. "I never want to move again!"

"I promise, no more moving." Amanda smiled, but doubted it made it to her face. "Enjoy your bath, Mother."

"Whatever or whoever it is that has you so upset . . . I'm sure it will all work itself out. You know what I always say: If it's special it will last." She kissed Amanda on the cheek and tenderly rubbed her back. "Goodnight, love. Be sure to lock up." She turned gingerly and hobbled up the stairs.

"I will. Good night." Amanda wished she could be as hopeful about her future as her mother was. But after two days and still nothing, it was obvious he wanted nothing to do with her. As if he hadn't proven that to her when he let her walk out of his apartment knowing that would quite possibly be the last time he'd see her. She thought, when push came to shove, he'd admit what she knew in her heart to be true. But he was either too stubborn or . . . he didn't love her.

Her breath shallow; her senses drugged—she needed fresh air. Grabbing her purse and car keys, she was nearly out the back door when she thought better of it and put them back down on the island. She needed to give him space. He was certainly aware of her feelings—it was up to him now. She wouldn't beg. Amanda reopened the back door and slid out into the backyard. If she couldn't see him, she could at least be surrounded by memories.

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_**TBC . . .**_


	7. Chapter 6 Conclusion

**I Will Remember You**

_See Prologue for Disclaimer_

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_I'm so afraid to love you, but more afraid to loose  
Clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose  
Once there was a darkness, deep and endless night  
You gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light  
_

Amanda's first thought when she saw him sitting in the gazebo was that she was hallucinating. But his hazel eyes held a sorrow that she'd never dreamed possible. She wanted to go to him, wrap her arms around him, and make all the bad disappear. Instead, she stood in the doorframe with her hands in the pockets of her jeans staring back at him. Her feet rooted to the floor. The gray haze of his skin suggested that he had had a rough couple of days. Mr. Melrose hadn't confirmed that Lee was the one who had found Sleece's partner and the manuscript but she figured as much. Now, seeing his hollowed face, she was certain of it.

When neither said a word after a few minutes, she moved inside to sit beside him being sure to leave a safe distance between them.

"Hi." His voice was hoarse as if he'd been up a long time.

"Hi," she squeaked. Amanda squeezed her eyes shut trying to calm her nerves. He'd always been the one to rescue her but now he was the one person she feared most. When she had tried to open up to him, come clean, he shut her down. She wouldn't allow herself to be hurt again. "Why are you here?" she asked curtly.

Lee cleared his throat, discomfort on his face. He shrugged his shoulders, then rubbed his hands on his thighs several times. She couldn't help but watch in fascination at his obvious nervousness. Amanda could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen Lee Stetson nervous, which only served to make _her_ more nervous.

He motioned toward the house. "Getting settled back in?"

She nodded. The ease that she normally felt when they were together was gone. An awkward silence left in its place. What she wouldn't give to have this week erased from their lives—to go back to being friends and partners slowly moving towards something more. "You were the one that found the book." She spoke confidently, knowing he couldn't deny it.

"Yeah." He stood and paced the small floor of the gazebo.

"How? Why? I thought you were glad to be rid of me." His shoulders sagged forward—she had hit a nerve.

"Francine . . . she interrogated Sleece again." Amanda glared at him skeptically and he continued, "I asked her to since Billy wouldn't let me anywhere near him after my last attempt at 'talking' to him," Lee said referring to the way he had to be pulled off the pale, trembling man in the Agency detention room.

"Yeah, I saw that. You really need to be careful, Lee. One of these days you're going to really hurt someone."

"Amanda, I came by to talk about . . . well what happened between us. Things that were said and not said . . . by me." He slicked his hand through his hair and took in a gulp of air before slowly letting it out.

Amanda crossed and uncrossed her feet; both afraid and anxious to hear what he would say. She could see the battle raging inside him. He parted his lips as if to say something, but then closed them again; his sharp eyes looking past her as if trying to gain some composure.

"Lee –"

He sat next to her; this time closer. "No, I need to say what I was . . . too afraid to say when you came by my apartment." He picked up her hand and held it in his, rubbing it gently with his thumb. "It killed me to push you away." He squeezed her hand as if it was his lifeline. "I thought you would be better off without me in your life. Before I came along you were safe. Your family was safe."

"You've kept us safe," she interjected.

"You'd bebetter off without me. But . . . _I_ wouldn't be better without _you_. I thought I was doing the right thing letting you walk away; but, thanks to you, I know I deserve to be happy." His faint smile held a touch of sadness.

She nodded and placed a gentle kiss on the palm of his hand.

"I'm a selfish bastard, Amanda! With my past, I don't have the right to ask you to stay; but without you I don't think I'll make it. I _want_ to be the man you see . . . or used to see when you looked at me." His thumb was now caressing her cheek and tracing her lips. "I'm selfish for pushing you away and I'm even more selfish for wanting you to stay. The fact is: I need you, Amanda." He gazed at her with a mixture of hope and anticipation.

Tears blinding her eyes and choking her voice she swallowed hard. "You . . . need me?" She pulled his hand from her cheek and gently laid it on his knee, rubbing it gently.

"Amanda—"

"I'm just not sure I can trust my feelings, Lee. I've tried so hard to push through the walls you've built up over the years and just when I finally felt like they were crumbling, up they came again." He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. "You let me walk out that door thinking that you didn't care, knowing that it could very well be the last time we ever spoke." She struggled with the uncertainty that had been aroused by his sudden honesty. "I can't go through that again, Lee. I need to know that you're with me every step of the way. We've faced every kind of danger and we've come through it as long as we've stuck together. Dangers of the heart are every bit as scary as dangers of the body."

"When you found me at the bar, I realized that I had given up. On you . . . and me." She stared at the floor, not trusting herself to stay focused if she looked him in the eyes. "I went home that night and called Francine to start the interrogation again. We worked all night on the few leads we had and that's why when you found me the next afternoon it appeared I was a bit uh . . . worse for wear."

Amanda's head snapped up in disbelief. "You weren't drinking?"

"No, but I sure needed one after you left. I wanted to stop you from leaving but my instincts said to let you go—that you'd be better off without me endangering your life. Besides, deep down, I knew that I'd see you again. We were meant to be . . ." he shrugged. "Fate," he whispered shyly.

"Well, it wasn't the first time your instincts have been wrong, and I'm sure it won't be the last." She smiled at his surprised look.

"Cute." He grinned as he fingered the collar of her shirt. "I would have been here sooner, but we had to fly back from South America. Seems our guy wanted to get a suntan while he shopped around for buyers." He shook his head. "Anyway, Francine helped me work the case in Rio. She really worked her tail off. But then she had a good reason . . ."

"A lot of lives were at stake." Amanda nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, including hers. Chapter 3, page 135, talked about a certain loose-lipped blonde agent taking cooking lessons."

"Oh! Poor, Francine!" She giggled. "Well, all's well that ends well."

"Not quite." He moved forward and brushed his lips against her mouth before pulling back slowly. "This case isn't over yet." He nuzzled her neck making it difficult for her to concentrate on his words.

"It's not?" Her eyes drifted shut, and she squealed when he nibbled her earlobe.

When he didn't answer, she pried open her eyes to find him gazing at her and shaking his head. "Oh, no." He kissed the tip of her nose. "See, I nearly let my partner walk out of my life and . . . well, I have a lot groveling to do."

"Really?" Her face brightened at his flirtatiousness. "How long do you think it will take?"

"However long it takes." He stared purposefully into her eyes. "I'm not going anywhere."

_And I will remember you  
Will you remember me?  
Don't let your life pass you by  
Weep not for the memories  
Weep not for the memories_

_**The End**_


End file.
